Kids' Table
by soul-dwelling
Summary: Tsubaki and Soul just want to have one good Thanksgiving at his and Maka's apartment: is that so much to ask? When the three of them anticipate significant changes waiting for them as they enter adulthood, yes, it is too much to ask of the more childish of their friends-and of themselves. Inspired by a question to my Tumblr. Rated T for language; post-Chapter 113 spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, everything in the universe 'cause there ain't no god like me!"

"Black Star," Tsubaki Nakatsukasa started, "we still have a bit of time until Christmas."

"Don't mock my epic rhymes, Tsubaki!" Black Star jokingly scolded his weapon.

"You mean rhyming 'me' with 'me'?" Tsubaki returned the tease.

He ignored her. "Today is Thanksgiving, the first day to Christmas! Just 12 days away!"

"More than 25, Black Star."

"But I saw Santa at the end of that parade in New York on TV just an hour ago! And at the mall earlier this week! And just now at the street corner over there! Look! He's still here!"

"Ho ho ho!" The man—no, the skeleton!—in the big red jacket at the end of the street corner continued waving at the duo. Tsubaki, as horrified as her friend Liz Thompson, inched behind her meister, as he waved with a bright smile. Yet the skeleton in the Santa suit appeared as disturbed at the departing duo as Tsubaki was of him, his back still smarting from Black Star trying to leap into his lap with his long Christmas list, which was now hanging out of pants' pocket.

"That wasn't Santa," Tsubaki started, tentatively, as she used her hands, full of plastic grocery bags, to push him further down the road. "He was…um, one of Santa's helpers, Black Star!"

Black Star turned to glare at his pushy weapon. "I'm not a little kid, Tsubaki—I know that's one of Santa's helpers! I know the rules of Christmas! Hell, I once helped the guy deliver toys all in one night!"

Tsubaki chuckled. "Uh huh. Next you are going to tell me that you helped the Tooth Fairy."

"I already told you, that was Kid who helped the Tooth Fairy!" Black Star, still clutching the numerous grocery bags in his two hands, started to shadow box. "Kid got stuck with that annoying mutant albino penguin guy, and one of his fairies or something turned out to be the Tooth Fairy!" Tsubaki rolled her eyes: Black Star was now locked in story mode. "Meanwhile, me and Santa were back to back fighting off zombie reindeer! I creamed Rudolph in that big, red, rotting nose of his!" He paused, then looked out of the corner of his eye at Tsubaki, and gave an innocent smile. "Um, but don't tell anyone. That was a super secret mission for Kid's dad."

"Suuuure, Black Star," she teased him. "Just don't tell those stories tonight: we want to make a better impression on our friends than…well, usual?"

Black Star stopped walking. "What are you talking about? I'm great at these festivities!"

"Black Star." Tsubaki was speaking more sternly.

He stared at her. He shrugged, and kept walking. The silence persisted for a few moments, as the two walked through the streets of Death City up to the apartment of their classmates, Maka Albarn and Soul Eater—or, as he was not calling himself, Soul Evans. Black Star had never gotten over that name change. I mean, sure, now he had outed himself as the little bro to the famous Wes Evans, but seriously, he was the Last Freaking Death Scythe?! Why did he need a name change when he already had that epic title?!

But as the cold wind hit against Black Star's face—Death City being oddly chilly for autumn in Nevada, something to do with atmospheric changes ever since the Black Blood circled around the Moon months earlier—he could not help but think of the changes awaiting. Kid—well, now Lord Death the Second—had instituted so many new changes for the DWMA that it made Black Star's head spin: Soul was going to be transferred to Europe to take over the posts of not one but two deceased Death Scythes. This was the last Thanksgiving the group would have together at Maka's apartment, as she was going to give up the lease to their—her?—apartment: not much point staying in a two-bedroom apartment if Soul was moving out. Actually, Black Star hadn't the heart to ask either her or Lord Death—no, Kid, just keep calling him Kid!—what was happening with her. After the battle on the Moon, she should be a three-star meister in no time. But without a weapon, with Soul goofing off in Europe, how would she get any further in her progress? A new partner? Kid had made it pretty clear that he wanted Soul and only Soul in Europe—something about having something else in mind for Maka. That jerk, Black Star thought. Where did he get off separating those two?! They went together like peanut butter and jelly, fire and gasoline, water and oil!

At least Black Star had Tsubaki: when Soul went off to Europe, what would Maka have left?

At that thought, Black Star glanced at Tsubaki. Her hair was caught up by the wind as they continued their walk to the apartment. That old thought came back to his mind—how in all these years, he barely got anywhere close to the 99 souls needed to make Tsubaki into a Death Scythe. And now that there was a no-killing-witches rule, how would he ever make her into one? He smiled at his own private joke about having Tsubaki consume Angela's soul, but even Black Star was not that awful.

He smirked. Mostly, he thought, as he inventoried the list of pranks he had ready to use against Angela when they picked her up from her sleepover at Sid and Nygus's. No way he was going to let that little creep get away with putting his hand into a bowl of water!

"Black Star?"

Tsubaki's question roused Black Star out of his rapid-fire thinking. "Yeah?"

"You…sure you're okay, with Angela having Thanksgiving with Sid and Nygus this year?"

"Hell yeah I am!" His cry echoed through the desolated autumn streets, even shaking the few leaves remaining off of some of the trees that stood. (How was Death City able to support deciduous trees, Tsubaki thought? She had heard it was Lord Death's magic—that he had planted those trees himself centuries ago, as a reminder of the cycle of life and death in his own community. She bit her lip: they would be a reminder of him, long after he was gone.) "I don't want some brat kid hanging out with the adults this year!" His arms already covered with numerous bags of food, he still lifted both handfuls of bags from his weapon's hands, to take that burden off of her. "This is going to be a mature Thanksgiving! I'm even going to help make the meal!"

"Black Star, I'm still not sure—"

"Tsubaki!" He struggled to hold up his open palms to silence her. "I'm totally on it! I got all the ingredients, I read all those books—"

"When did you have time to —"

"I started reading in December!"

"Last December?!"

"How else was I going to read all those books?! I did it all: the prep, the stirring, the baking, the deep-frying—"

"You may not deep fry that turkey!"

"What? It'll work out fine! Besides, Kid was able to re-build that hallway to his mansion that one time!"

Tsubaki narrowed her eyes.

"Okay, okay, no deep frying this year." He stuck out his lower lip. "Soul was the one who dared me to do it, anyway."

"Black Star," Tsubaki continued walking towards their friends' apartment, "if Soul dared you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"

"I already did: London, two years ago."

Tsubaki was about to say something, but thought the better of it. Sighing, she only said, "Good thing you land on your feet."

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "But too bad the water was that cold. When I came out, I thought I had lost my—"

"Don't!" Tsubaki warned.

He chuckled. "Yeah, sorry."

Tsubaki allowed Black Star to walk ahead a bit. While he kicked away a few offending autumn leaves from the deserted Death City street, she ruminated on what she had discussed last week with one of her classmates. She had asked Soul to mention their plan to his partner. Had he done so? How would she take the news? For all I know, Tsubaki thought, how would Soul take the news when she told him the rest of her plan? Would Kid be upset? Liz? Patty? Most of all, how would Black Star—

"Tsubaki?" Black star asked. "Something bothering ya?"

She lifted her head, a smile painted on. "Oh, no, it's nothing."

He shrugged. "When you want to tell me what's bothering you, just let me know." His bright teeth appeared. "Okay?"

Her smile became authentic, as she gave a thumb up.

o-o-o

WRITER'S NOTES: Chapter 1

Yay! I finally wrote a multi-chapter story—in less than a day! This fan fic was inspired by a comment submitted at my site regarding what a Soul Eater Thanksgiving would be like.

It's not as action heavy as I want it to be: it's another slice of life story, and another one focused on Tsubaki. I will have a Kid and the Thompsons action story soon, I promise. And I'm still accepting fan fic prompts at my site: Ask

I don't know whether there is a Black Star and Santa versus zombie reindeer story—but now I kind of want to write it. Still better than that empty Zombie Santa fight in Sword Art Online.

I may be wrong that deserts usually lack deciduous trees, but I could not pass up an opportunity to draw some sadness upon Lord Death's passing and basically make him the Johnny Appleseed of the southwestern United States.

I will have more notes to include with subsequent chapters. Prep yourself for Chapter 2: it's the longest one.


	2. Chapter 2

"Welcome, you guys!" Liz Thompson took both Tsubaki and Black Star into a bear hug. She let go, gesturing to the entrance to Soul and Maka's apartment. Tsubaki struggled to see over her friend's shoulder, but what an eyeful she received from the decorations all over the domestic space. As typical with Maka, she had decorated the apartment with the corniest autumn decorations she could. She went all out this year, however: from her and Soul's trips throughout the northern continent, she had collected pine cones, leaves, and other vegetation to add an appropriately autumnal environment to their apartment in the desert. Tsubaki then realized why Soul had swapped so many missions with her to go visit Oregon, New York, and Massachusetts. Hadn't he mentioned that Maka's mother had a cabin in one of those states? In any case, the smell of pine mixed with the mostly prepared meal already sitting in the equally decorated kitchen: a fine turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes (Soul's sweet tooth won this year, as he had even added pineapple slices to them!).

The decorations even extended to Lord Death the Second—their friend, Death the Kid—who was sitting on the couch in front of the television. He was in the holiday spirit, as much as he could be: Liz's sister Patty had forced him to wear a pilgrim hat. It was either that, or the turkey mask—the kind of image that still gave Kid nightmares, whenever he could get sleep. Actually, Tsubaki thought, she was happy to see Kid away from work. Liz had said that he was so busy, upon taking over his departed father's position, that he was not sleeping or eating—not that a Grim Reaper needed to, however. But at least he was enjoying the surroundings, Tsubaki noticing a small smile as he nodded to her.

"Make yourself at home!" Liz was dressed in jeans and a thick sweater—less to keep warm, more for the sake of fashion. "Kick up your feet on the table, have yourself some hot chocolate or coffee! I made it all myself!"

"Liar." Soul was leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. "All you've done since you got here was hog the bathroom, file your nails, and drink coffee."

"I brought the pumpkin spice blend!" she growled.

"And I made the beverages." He stared at Tsubaki. "Even shaved the peppermint sticks to add to your drink."

Tsubaki blushed. "Thanks, Soul."

"Yeah, thanks, buddy!" Black Star shouted, slapping Soul hard on the back, nearly sending the Last Death Scythe face first onto the floor. "Here, take these!" He deposited all of his bagged food into Soul's arms—and that finally sent the Last Death Scythe to the floor.

"Now," the ninja bellowed, rubbing his hands together, "where's that hot chocolate?!" Black Star marched through the living room towards the kitchen, where Patty was busy prepping food—most of it landing on the previously clean kitchen floor.

Liz shook her head, winked at her friend Tsubaki, and removed some of the bags off the floor, leaving the still collapsed Last Death Scythe on the floor, as she followed Black Star into the kitchen.

Soul removed himself from the floor, and seeing the mess Patty was making, was happy at least where he stood was clean. It had to be: Maka insisted they pick up every bit of the apartment last night before their friends arrived.

"Not like it matters," Soul muttered. "Just going to be a mess again." He sighed. "Just like every year."

"Not this year." Soul glanced up, surprised to hear how resolute Tsubaki sounded.

He smirked. "Plan underway, then?"

"What does Maka think of it?"

Soul avoided eye contact, struggling to scratch the back of his neck despite the number of bags still in his hands. "She's been…preoccupied." He paused. "So have I." Tsubaki kicked herself for inadvertently bringing up his planned transfer to Europe. "But trust me!" he added. "She'll be on board! I know it!"

Tsubaki sighed. "I hope so." While she smiled at Soul, she could only fear how he would respond when she revealed the last part of her plan.

"Patty!" Tsubaki and Soul glanced at the kitchen, seeing a frustrated Liz. "You're getting more cranberry on the floor than in the bowl!"

"I'm helping! Leave me alone!"

"Patty," Black Star said with a huff. "Just can't trust her to handle any of the preparation."

Liz studied him. "Shouldn't you be prepping the vegetables and peeling the extra sweet potatoes?"

"Done."

"Please, I asked you do to that just a minute ago and—"

Liz stood aghast, seeing a prep station brimming with perfectly prepared vegetables. Black Star crossed his arms and nodded his head. "I'm not an expert swordsman for nothing, you know. Knives, basically any cutlery." He side-eyed Liz. "Give me a sharp object, and I can tear it up!"

"Good then," Liz said. Black Star wondered why she sounded so oddly chipper. Or he would have, had Liz not already dragged him to where Patty just stood, having just pushed aside her own sister. "Then you can take over for Patty on the cranberry stirring."

"Me?! I did my work! I want to watch TV now!"

"Oh, but Black Star," Liz said, poking his arm. "With your big strong muscles, you could do this work faster than me or Patty could."

Black Star crossed his arms, and turned up his nose. "Your flattery is as sugary as your dumb old cranberries."

"The word you want is saccharine."

"Who asked you, Patty?!"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, as Tsubaki handed the spoon to him. "Please, Black Star."

Shamed but still upset, Black Star grumbled. "This is humiliating."

"Shut up and start stirring," Liz replied.

Grumbling as he took the spoon and quickly whipped up the bowl, Black Star bellowed, "And where's the woman of the house? Shouldn't she be doing this work?"

That remark earned Black Star three slaps to the back of his head from three irate female weapons.

"She's in the bathroom, still putting on her makeup," Liz said, "if you must know."

Picking himself off the cranberry-covered floor, and wiping the stains off his hands onto the back of a still stirring Patty, Black Star struggled to hold back a laugh. "Maka? In makeup? Oh, this I got to see."

"It's not that kind of makeup, Black Star," Soul yelled from the couch.

"Then what kind is it?" the ninja shouted back.

"Ta-da! All set!"

All eyes turned to the hallway, where Maka Albarn stood, wearing shorts and an oversized orange jersey, with a fire-covered skull stitched onto the front and black stripes along its neck and sleeves. On the back, large and white, were the number 99 and the name "ALBARN." Her face was painted orange and black, the colors divided perfectly from her forehead, down her nose to her chin. Soul slapped himself on the forehead, while Kid glared: the asymmetrical colors were pissing him off.

Upon hearing the guffaws coming from the kitchen, Maka's smile faded, her eyebrows arched. "What? What's so funny?"

"Maka Albarn! Football nerd?!" Black Star was slapping his knee with each laugh, Patty joining in, as she wiped the cranberry remains from her hands onto the back of his shirt.

"Yeah, Maka, never took you to be into sports," Tsubaki replied, laughter in her voice. "You still have trouble dribbling a basketball!"

"It's just that it's a Thanksgiving tradition," Maka replied, struggling to keep eye contact with her so-called friends. "Mama and I used to watch every year." Upon that remark, the laughter slowly faded, but at least Maka's smile returned. "And I watch all the games every year with Soul! The Death City Skulls are our favorite—"

She paused, scrutinizing her partner.

"Where's your face makeup?" she asked, sternly.

"Remember how I said 'No' when you asked me to put on makeup?"

"Yes," she replied bluntly. "All seven times."

"Well here's the eighth: No."

"Nice!" Kid shouted, holding up his hand to Soul for a high five. Soul shrugged, and fulfilled the request.

Maka glared at her weapon and her new boss, until she felt a tug at her jersey. She turned to see Tsubaki, worried.

"Maka, could I, ahem," Tsubaki started, still trying not to laugh at her friend's face, "talk with you and Soul for a moment?"

Although confused, Maka gestured for Soul to tear himself away from the Nevada State Parade footage, and join Tsubaki in the hallway.

"Soul, have you asked her yet?"

"No, I was hoping you would start."

"Ask me what?"

Soul and Tsubaki frowned, crossed their arms, and simultaneously whispered, "We demand a Kids' Table this year."

"A what?"

"A Kids' Table," they said a little louder.

"No, no, I heard you—I'm just not sure what you mean."

"Maka," Soul started, "for the past three years, we have had Thanksgiving here at this apartment. And do you remember what happened each year?"

She knew. She just didn't want to admit it. "We eat a third of what is prepared, another third goes home as leftovers with Tsubaki and Black Star because she cooked most of the meal—"

"And Black Star has a black hole in his stomach."

"Thanks, Soul," Tsubaki said, rolling her eyes.

"And," Maka continued, "the last third…"

Soul and Tsubaki gestured for her to complete her sentence.

"Ends up on the walls, ceiling, or someone's clothes."

"Because?"

"Because some of the less mature members of our group are immature children!"

Soul and Tsubaki covered Maka's mouth, then glanced to the hallway. Only Kid was studying them, perplexed at what they were discussing. He walked towards them.

"Not a word to Kid!" Soul ordered the two women, as he and Tsubaki removed their hands over Maka's mouth.

"Why?" his frustrated meister asked. Soul and Tsubaki only then noticed that they had smudged her face paint.

After both weapons glanced at each other and then their orange and black digits, they placed their hands behind their backs, and Soul continued: "Because we want to send Patty to the Kids' Table, which her meister may not appreciate!"

"The last thing we need to do is upset the Grim Reaper, after all, right?" Tsubaki added.

"You know I have superhuman hearing, right?" Kid whispered into Tsubaki's ear.

"Kid!" Tsubaki shouted. "So, um, how's the parade?"

"Deeply upsetting. That large orange cat should be a poster child for obesity awareness."

"Well," Tsubaki continued, "so you kind of heard everything we were just discussing, then?"

"Yes." He studied Tsubaki. "Would you mind standing on your own feet? I think you are about to snap Maka's back?"

Tsubaki then noticed that her arms were wrapped around Maka's neck, as the shorter woman, although having strong limbs, had not prepared herself when her friend had leaped into her arms upon Kid's first words.

"Oh!" Tsubaki lowered herself to the floor. "Sorry!"

After Maka stretched her back to re-situate her vertebra, she said, "So, Kid, you think this is a good idea?"

"Certainly not!" Kid began. "I'm not having the more immature members of our clique sit with me!"

His three friends looked at each other. "Kid," Soul began, "we're not talking about putting _you_ at the Kids' Table."

"And why not?" So, what, now Kid was upset that he was _not_ included? "My name is on it, so why shouldn't I sit there?"

Soul smacked his forehead. "Kids' Table, Kid! Not Kid's Table!"

"Oh, good explanation there, Soul."

"Shut up, Maka!"

"What Soul means to say," Tsubaki interrupted, "is a table where the…few of us who are not yet ready to join the more mature among us can enjoy their meal together! With crayons, foot fights, smaller portions—"

"And thus not trouble the rest of us as we try to have a more mature Thanksgiving meal?"

"Exactly!"

Kid studied Tsubaki, then smiled. "I think I like the idea of a Kid's Table. I mean, _Kids'_ Table!" No one bothered to tell Kid that the homonym clarification was not necessary. "Okay, I'm in. How should we inform the children amongst us? Should we put it into writing?"

"No, 'cause it'll be Christmas before the penmanship is to your satisfaction."

"That was one time, Soul—can you not drop it already?"

Tsubaki was sweating, waving her hands away from herself. "Now, now, let's do this properly. I'll inform everyone separately and then—"

"Black Star, Patty, come over here!" Maka shouted into the kitchen.

"Maka!" Tsubaki shouted. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Maka asked. "I thought the direct approach would be best? It's how my parents broke bad news to me."

"Is that how your mother informed you of her separation from your father?"

"I said 'bad news,' Kid."

Black Star and Patty marched to the hallway, an odd squishing sound accompanying their footsteps, with Liz struggling to walk behind them. Maka and Soul then noticed why: the two childish brats were leaving cranberry stains on the new carpet and just wiped floor. The apartment tenants looked at each other, and nodded. While Soul walked away, first to the kitchen—to get some napkins so he could wipe the still present face paint off their hands—Maka broke the news:

"This year, we want to try something that should increase everyone's Thanksgiving enjoyment!"

"We're going to kill the turkey here?!"

"No, Patty," Kid replied, "we are not killing the turkey here." He then studied his weapon. "Is that an axe behind your back?!"

Patty gazed up to the ceiling, as she moved the object behind her into obscurity. "Nooooo," she replied, extending the vowel as she played innocent.

"Well, it better not be something stupid like dressing up like pilgrims."

"That Thanksgiving was fun, Black Star, and you know it!" Maka shouted.

"We still never got back the deposit because of the mashed potato and gravy dripping out the pockets of those costumes!"

"Thanks, Soul," Maka yelled back to the kitchen. "I really needed that reminder!"

"Then what is the plan?" Liz interrupted. "I'm famished and want to eat already!"

"The plan is," Maka began, "is that we are going to set up two tables this year!"

Black Star and Patty looked at each other, then back at Maka.

"A table for the…um…those of us who like having more fun!" Maka waved her hands at her wrists.

The six young adults heard a noise, as they saw Soul bring out a folding table that had been leaning against the kitchen cabinets. He proceeded to open that table to set it on its four legs. Under his right arm, he had a paper tablecloth that he placed onto the table, and from his pocket he removed a pack of crayons. He glanced up to see two furious sets of eyes. Ignoring them, he gave a thumb up and a smile to Tsubaki and the others, then walked back to the kitchen to get the rest of the table setting, and the already prepared food.

Maka continued: "And another table for those of us who were just going to have dumb old boring conversations anyway."

"So a Kiddie Table," Black Star said, crossing his arms.

Tsubaki started to sweat. "Now, Black Star, it's nothing like—"

"This is because of last year when Kid threw those peas at me, and I ducked, and they got in your hair, isn't it?!"

"I should not be blamed for your frustrating ability to dodge attacks, Black Star."

Maka then felt herself pulled by her jersey, staring face to face with Patty. "I am not some child that you get to exile to fulfill your own stubborn desire for an immaculate Thanksgiving dinner!"

Maka struggled to reply, more so surprised to hear multisyllabic words coming from Patty. "Now, now, it's not that bad."

"What, you going to put a paper cloth over the cheap fold-out table for me and Black Star, with crayons so we can draw on it?!"

"That actually sounds like fun!"

"Not helping, Black Star!"

"Please, Patty," Tsubaki interfered. "You will have company there!"

"Yeah, sis," Liz replied, helping Maka extricate herself from Patty's grip. "You and Black Star will have fun with your meal."

Swiping the cranberry off her jersey, Maka then noticed how much Tsubaki was sweating. "Tsubaki? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing!"

"Okay," Soul said, returning again from the kitchen. "I got the four chairs like you asked, Tsubaki. You want them at the adult's table, then?"

"Wait," Maka said. "Four chairs? Soul, shouldn't you have gotten five chairs for our table?"

"It's not quite _our_ table, Maka," Tsubaki said, with a tentative tone to her voice.

Soul studied Tsubaki. "Wait. If these are four for the adults' table, that leaves three at the Kids'—" Soul's eyes widened. "You're going to put _me_ at the Kids' Table?!"

Maka glanced at Tsubaki, then back at Soul. She smirked, and crossed her arms. "Actually, that's not a bad idea."

"Maka!"

"What? You and your buddy Black Star make just as much of a mess to our apartment!" She stopped smirking, and she surveyed the apartment. She got quieter. "I'd like to have it be clean, just one last time."

Soul stopped glaring. He felt like that scar on his chest was starting to ache, as he tried to hold his hand to his heart without people noticing.

At least Liz didn't notice, but only because she was guffawing. "Serves you right, Evans! You made a bigger mess of your own apartment than my sis and Black Star combined!" she shouted, putting her arm around her still fuming sister. "Looks like it'll just be mature conversations from here on out this evening for me and the three other adults here!"

"Still not quite accurate, Liz," Tsubaki whispered.

Liz, still laughing, turned to her friend. "What do you mean Tsubaki?" she asked wiping a tear from her eye from chortling so much. "You told Soul to get the four chairs, and we got 'em!"

"Yes, but I was not lying when I asked for four chairs for the Kids' Table." Tsubaki avoided eye contact with Liz.

The taller of the Thompson sisters studied Tsubaki, before her eyes widened in realization. "Hey! You are seriously considering putting _me_ at the Kids' Table?!"

Tsubaki shrugged, struggling to keep a smile on her face.

"B-b-but—I didn't do anything awful these past Thanksgiving! I've been a good girl!"

"Liz," Tsubaki started speaking with a slightly higher pitch, like a kindergarten teacher speaking to a child, "don't you remember what happened that one Thanksgiving that you had too much of the Brussels sprouts and gravy?"

Liz froze. "You promised to keep that a secret!"

Soul dropped the chairs, and Maka hung her arms to her sides. "You messed up our toilet?!" they shouted simultaneously.

"Not like that, you pervs!" Liz screamed. "Patty here dumped Brussels sprouts down my shirt, and I had gravy in my shoes—and I just couldn't take it! So I excused myself to clean up in your bathroom! But the wastebasket was full, and I was stressed, and I was so messy, and the smell!—" Now she was gripping Maka by the shoulders, shaking her—"That smell! And I thought, 'Hey, just flush it down the toilet!'"

"Liz!" Maka was growling. "Do you have any idea what the bill was to fix that toilet?!"

"The neighbors have hated us for _years_ because of the mess that made," Soul said, as he broke a breadstick in half.

Black Star, having seated himself at the Kids' Table, shoving globes of cranberries from his hand to his mouth, was not impressed by Soul's pathetic display of strength. "Must have been a hell of a lot of Brussels sprouts to mess up a toilet like that," he spoke through a mouth full of citrusy fruit. "Just do what I do—dump it into the potted plants!"

"That was you?!" Maka screamed.

"But that shouldn't send me to the Kids' Table!" Liz interrupted.

"Exile, sis—say exile. It's a great fucking word!"

"Shut up, Patty!"

"No, you shut up! You were going to send me to Siberia!"

"No, it's called a Kiddie Table!" Black Star called out.

Patty shrieked. "Shut up, Black Star."

It all happened so fast. Patty placed her hands on her sister's shoulders, using them to springboard off of Liz, flipping over her friends, until she landed feet first on the adult's table—where the vast majority of the food was sitting. Kid was the only one who was able to dodge in time, somehow moving from the hallway, past the living room, and to the kitchen—Reaper reflexes, being what they are—as the pile of food flew through the air, and landed on top of the three women still standing in the hallway.

Soul cringed. Now Maka's face wasn't just orange and black: with the variety of food they had to serve, most of it now worn on his meister's body, her face was a Thanksgiving rainbow of tasty food.

This was going to end badly. He could almost hear the three women's teeth grinding in anger. As the three of them balled their hands into fists, the Last Death Scythe finally took a stand. "Stop! We are not having this kind of fight on this of all days! Especially when we know who is really at fault!"

Everyone in the room glanced at each other, then back at Soul. "Yeah, you!"

Soul blinked. "Me?" he squeaked.

"It was your idea!" Maka shouted. "I just wanted to watch some FOOTBALL! Just one last Thanksgiving in this apartment to go well!" Soul fell back against the wall—he could hear his meister at the point of breaking down into tears. "And you had to make up this stupid plan to send off half of us to the Kids' Table!"

"Technically, I had never quite agreed to this plan," Kid said, pushing his index fingers against each other, his back against the same wall as Soul. How did Soul not notice Kid moving from the kitchen to the living room that before? Well, Patty had: she had already picked herself off the living room floor to stand next to both men, holding a drumstick above Kid's head, ready to smash it against her meister's cranium.

"Maka." Soul stopped shaking, and took a serious tone. "I was in the dark about this too. I would give anything to have this be a good Thanksgiving." He looked to the floor. "Not the last one—just a good one." He paused, then a sadistic grin crossed his face. "And I know how to make it a memorable one—one that I'm sure you will love."

Maka stopped looking like she was going to cry, because now she stared curiously at her partner. What did he have in mind?

Soul crossed his arms, as he glanced at Kid. "Besides, as I remember it was you, Kid, and Tsubaki who were the ones who decided to keep the adults' table just to the three of you."

Patty and Black Star observed each other, and Liz studied Soul.

"And to keep the vast majority of food to themselves."

Kid and Maka exchanged glances. Tsubaki felt them scheming as they studied each other.

"And after all that work we did to cook?!" Black Star screamed. "I gave up hours to read all those cookbooks!"

"I stirred the cranberries!" Patty added.

"I pretended to make the coffee and hot chocolate!" Liz shouted.

"I just wanted a clean Thanksgiving," Soul continued, "and these three decided to send me away from the meal I helped make!"

"What the hell did you help make?!" Maka shouted. "You sat on the couch all day!"

"I made that banana cream pie last night!" he replied. Then he paused. Soul studied the pie, still sitting on the Kids' Table. His smile curled into something fiercer.

Maka could feel her face paint coming off, the sweat dripping down her cheeks. He wouldn't, she thought.

Soul picked up the pie.

He would.

"In fact, I had a surprise for you, Maka." He gazed upon his fellow kids. "Patty, Black Star, Liz. In the fridge you will find three more pies: chocolate, apple, and pumpkin."

"Oh, good!" Black Star shouted. "I was getting tired of just eating the cranberries."

Liz sighed. "No, Black Star, Soul has something else in mind." She pointed at the pie in Soul's hand. Realization dawned on Black Star's face, and the three smirking children dashed into the kitchen, and returned with their confectionary weapons.

"Rule #2 of the DWMA," Soul started.

"Anything can be a weapon," Liz continued.

"In the hands of a capable student," Black Star concluded.

"And where are you going, Kid?" Patty asked, as her meister had been inching towards the door. He turned back, and attempted to wear a pathetic smile. "Going to get some more cranberry soda?"

"Sweet!" Black Star said. "Bring us back some brewskies, too! Pumpkin ale, people!"

Liz and Patty slapped him on the back of the head.

"Oh, right. Pie throwing. Got it."

"Liz," Patty said, "why don't you take care of Kiddo?"

"Oh, no, dear sister," she replied. "Really, you were the one who suffered the insults of his dastardly plan."

"And I'll take care of Tsubaki," Black Star said.

"And that leaves Maka," Soul concluded.

Kid backed against the door. "I don't suppose it is too late for me to join you? I mean, it is _my_ table. 'Kid' is in the name, for goodness sake!"

As Liz and Patty approached their meister, Maka and Tsubaki froze, then made a dash for the former's bedroom—but not in time. Black Star and Soul slammed the door shut, the former twisting the door handle with his bare hand!

"You want to say it, Soul, or should I?"

"Why not together, buddy?" the scythe replied.

Maka and Tsubaki gripped each other by their shoulders, the mess of stuffing and peas still stuck in their hair and cranberry stains covering their clothes.

"Food fight!"

o-o-o

WRITER'S NOTES: Chapter 2

Thanks for getting through what is the longest chapter to this story.

Of course Maka would be a sports fan: they are some of the biggest nerds out there. It just doesn't mean that she can play basketball. Yeah, it's a bit of retconning, although I imagine that when she sets her mind to it, she can memorize a sport's rules and imagine game-winning strategies.

There is an actual Maka Albarn jersey by Tumblr user meisterrizahawkeye that inspired for me Maka's football obsession. Please check out Hawkeye's jersey here at the DeviantArt account holacheesefries: /art/DWMA-Jersey-392701688.

Someone I know makes sweet potatoes with pineapple—and it is tasty.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hmm," she said, wiping her finger off of Kid's face. Her face was covered in graham cracker crust and apple pie filling. "I have to say, Soul did a really good job with the chocolate this year!"

"I'm glad you like it, Tsubaki," Maka said, her head held despondently between her hands, obscuring a multi-colored mess. "The banana cream just tastes like face paint."

"Oh, Maka, do not be so upset," Kid offered, who had long stopped struggling to clean the chocolate from his face, and the rest of the Thanksgiving meal littering his previously clean suit. At least his jaunty pilgrim cap stayed on straight and miraciously clean on top of his head. "An adults' table was a good plan, but it was just not the right—"

"Who cares about that?!" she replied. "The Skulls lost! How the hell do you miss that many passes?! I swear, if the coach doesn't off that quarterback this year, I will!"

Kid paused. "You mean that metaphorically, right? Just good old Death City lingo, right?" he said, punctuated his remark with a swing of his arm.

"I have a Death Scythe as a partner who owes me big time—at least, for now I have a partner," was all Maka would say. Kid slowly inched away from his colleague, struggling to find a patch of the couch they shared that was not covered in turkey remains.

"Whoo!" Liz sighed. "Well, the kitchen is now spick-and-span!" As her sweater and jeans were now in the building's laundry room where Soul had loaded all the "children's" clothes into the washing machine, Liz was happy she had anticipated a food fight and brought with her some spare clothing—the tank top and shorts that she now wore. She removed the apron she had borrowed from Maka and Soul, and she walked past the couch to deposit the cleaning supplies back in the hallway closet. Over her shoulder, she gave a sadistic grin to the three still messy "adults." "I'm so happy that we agreed that us kids would take care of the kitchen this year, while you grown-up types handled the living room."

"Yes, such joy," Kid said into his muffled hands, refusing to survey the still present mess littering the wall, ceiling, and furniture to that room in which they now sat. "Where are Black Star and Patty? Should they not be assisting you?"

"They're in Soul's room, playing video games. It's better than having them make a bigger mess." Liz had removed a clean chair from his room as well, which she placed in one of the few clean spots of the living room floor. "Plus I didn't want those kids running around in their underwear all throughout your apartment, Maka."

"Good thing, too," a voice said from the doorway. Soul had returned, with a hamper full of clean clothes. "And another good thing that I have my own wardrobe in my room." He had changed out of his food-covered sweater and jeans into a shirt and another pair of jeans. "Hate to be walking through the apartment in my underwear."

He could see Maka studying him, and he struggled not to return the stare. Yet, surprising even Soul, Maka did not look angry at him. She actually smiled, giving him a glance that communicated not quite forgiveness for making a mess of their apartment, but definitely some positive emotion. "As if that is any different than what you usually do," she said, just waiting to see whether Soul would blush.

"Maka, too much information," Kid replied.

Liz laughed, then noticed Tsubaki, who was quieter than usual. She smiled, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Come on, Tsu. It was a good plan. You just should tell us ahead of time before you treat the majority of us like we're just little kids."

Tsubaki put her head down into her lap. Soul, Maka, and Kid looked at each other. The two meisters seemed less angry than before. Soul struggled to say something helpful.

"Hey, Tsubaki," he tested, "it's still early. I could wash those clothes for you before you go home."

"No, thanks, Soul," Tsubaki said, her voice muffled from her lap. "I didn't bring anything to change into."

"You could put on my sweater and jeans," Liz offered.

"Wouldn't she stretch your sweater in certain areas—"

"Finish that sentence, and you'll be asymmetrical in a very sensitive place!" Liz replied. Maka couldn't help but smile upon noticing not only Kid but also Soul crossing their legs.

Then they heard the whimpering.

"Tsubaki," Maka started, as she hugged her friend. "Please don't cry."

Tsubaki sat up, and wrapped her arms around Maka, squeezing the breath out of the meister's lungs.

"I didn't mean to make everyone upset! Not your last Thanksgiving here! Not before Soul left!"

Kid's eyes widened—is that what all of this had been about?

"I just wanted one Thanksgiving at your apartment, that I didn't screw up!"

Now Maka's eyes widened. She smiled, and held her friend harder. "You screwed up? You mean when Black Star started that food fight two years ago?"

"I'm his weapon! I should be able to do better!"

"Or the time I insisted everyone dress up for the holiday?"

"Yeah, Tsubaki," Soul said, walking around to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "That turkey suit was really uncomfortable, all because Maka insisted I wear it!"

Maka struggled not to puff her cheeks at her partner's criticism. Soul just smiled, happy that things were getting back to normal.

"Although, Tsu," Liz started, "you and I did make for some sexy pilgrims that year."

"I'll say!"

Tsubaki gazed up, blushing, to see her meister standing behind the couch—still with no clothes on. "That was a great year! The food was tasty, the apartment was not quite as messy as other years, and the Skulls actually won!"

"Black Star!" Maka shouted, while trying not to peep at his underwear. "You were watching the game that year, weren't you?"

"Football nerds stick together, right?!" he shouted, as he did a fist bump with his fellow meister.

"Tsubaki?" Patty bounced—literally—out of the laundry hamper, wearing her sister's much larger sweater, a pair of Soul's boxers on top of her head. "I was saving this, after it came loose from the flying turkey, for later at my house," she said, as she reached into her shirt and pulled—from places best not mentioned—a wishbone. "But I think you need better luck than me this year."

Tsubaki blinked away some tears. ""Thanks, Patty. I think."

"Now think of a wish!"

Tsubaki closed her eyes, and thought. She had the wish in her mind.

"You got it?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"On three, okay!"

"Okay," Tsubaki said, steeling her eyes and increasing her grip.

"Three!" Patty said, falling backwards as the larger amount of the wishbone stayed in Tsubaki's hand.

"Yahoo! Best Thanksgiving ever!"

"Don't oversell it, buddy," Soul said, as he wiped some pie off his meister's face, licked it, then grimaced. "This tastes like face paint!"

"No shit," Maka replied. She let go of Tsubaki, who now had a pleasant smile across her face. Both women stood up, Tsubaki heading to the kitchen, and Maka slapping her hand—and a wad of food—onto her partner's back. "Come on, Soul—Black Star and Tsubaki at least brought extra food for us to prep. We can still have a Thanksgiving with more food in us than on us."

She smiled at him, and he returned it to her.

Then they heard a disgusting groan. Black Star was curled on the floor, still in his underwear, grimacing. "I shouldn't have eaten that many cranberries."

Maka and Soul glared at their friend. "Tsubaki!" Soul called out to her, as she was already in the kitchen. "Did you bring some ginger ale and saltines with you?"

"On it, Soul!" She smiled. She got her wish.

o-o-o

WRITER'S NOTES: Chapter 3

Soul's remark about having to wear a turkey outfit was inspired by Tumblr user GunningTwice's fan art at the DeviantArt account pr0perty0fs0ul: /art/Gobble-it-up-Soul-Eater-360530032 And that fan art is itself based on the fan fic "Confessions of a Lovesick Turkey," which I have not yet read. I hope that one line is accepted as an allusion rather than plagiarism.

I'm not proud of having Black Star and Patty in their underwear; I'm not proud of Kid's remark to Liz about Tsubaki wearing her clothes. But the moments seemed suitable for the characters: Patty and Black Star choose to run around like that, Kid thinks he's asking a fair question, Liz puts Kid in his place. And it still strikes me as an improvement over Chapter 113's focus on voyeurism and groping. (And I'm happy to think of whatever creative threat Liz can say to Kid.)


	4. Epilogue

"Spiky!" Angel Leon shouted to her foster father. "Hurry up already!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," an increasingly irate Black Star replied to the 11-year-old. The long road trip was frustrating enough; having to wear that monkey suit for a simple dinner just made it more annoying. "I don't get the rush—the big game doesn't start for another two hours, dinner's not till 4, and the rest of the gang ain't arrived yet."

"But I want to see the baby!"

"Angela," Tsubaki replied, "she's probably asleep. And you should be a little quieter, or else you'll wake her." She steadied herself, getting out of the mini-van. She struggled to look away from that eyesore of a vehicle—"the Star-mobile" he insisted upon calling it, having re-painted the entire thing into a blue and silver monstrosity—and she gazed up at the Northampton house ahead of them, sheltered by a number of large trees, colored in a variety of warm hues. "You might wake up your sibling at this rate," she teased, patting her slightly larger abdomen.

"Then can I play in the leaves for a bit?"

"Sure thing, tiny!" Black Star replied, messing up her hair. "I'd start with the ones Soul already raked—that'll piss him off good!"

"Yahoo!" Angela said, as she dashed back to the van. "Let me get my broom!"

"Angela Leon!" Tsubaki warned. "I told you not to bring that with you! We are not making a mess this year!"

"Ah, let her have her fun, Tsubaki," Black Star said, patting her back. "What's a Thanksgiving without a little mess?"

She glared at him.

"I should probably tell you I told Angela to bring the broom, shouldn't I?"

Tsubaki nodded.

" 'Cause I wanted to make this year's tag football fun more epic?"

Tsubaki shook her head no.

"When we get back to Death City, I'm so in the doghouse, aren't I?"

"On the couch, at least," she replied, with a smirk, holding his face in her hands, as she kissed him.

"Enough with the coupling stuff, you two!" a shout came out from the house's doorway. Maka Albarn, now 23, came down the porch stairs, and wrapped her arms around both her friends. "How was the drive?" she said, squeezing more tightly.

"Exhausting," Tsubaki replied. "Road trips from Nevada to Massachusetts are murder, even if you know a teacher who can add some speedy magic tools to your minivan."

"Maka," Black Star asked, "could you squeeze a bit less? I don't want your face paint on my good duds, okay?"

That made the woman only squeeze harder. "You are such a bad fan—can't even cover yourself in a good coat of paint." She released. "Head on in—Soul's introducing the kid to the Thanksgiving Day parade, trying to get her to stop crying."

"Ha! I'll make that brat stop crying for you, no problem at all, Maka!" Black Star bounced off the ground, and landed on the porch with a loud thud. The cries of an infant got louder.

"God damn it, Black Star! Don't make her cry any more than she has!"

"Then don't yell at her, Soul! Babies smell fear! How else can they handle smelling their own shit that much?!" He glanced back at Maka and Tsubaki. "See? I _have_ been reading those parenting books!"

As Black Star entered the doorway, Tsubaki and Maka sighed.

"He's going to be a terrible parent," Maka said.

"No, that's where you're wrong, Maka," Tsubaki said, testily.

The face-painted three-star meister stared curiously at her friend. "Why's that?"

Her answer came in the form of a flurry of leaves, dropped on the mother and expecting mother's heads. Maka could already see the red, yellow, and orange leaves had a bit of black added to them now from rubbing against her face paint.

"He's already an awful parent," Tsubaki replied with a smile, as Angela flew her broomstick through the open window of the house.

"How's your mother going to tolerate this kind of a Thanksgiving?" Tsubaki asked. "When Kid and the three girls get here, it's going to be a nightmare."

"I gave Mama the warning months ago: she's locked all the bedrooms, removed the good towels from the bathroom, found the only plumber in all of Northampton that works Thanksgiving, set all the clocks to 8 o'clock, and she wrapped plastic tarp around all the walls."

"Isn't that a bit overboard even for us?" Tsubaki asked. "It's just us at your mother's country house this year."

"And Papa."

Tsubaki twisted her head abruptly to glance at Maka. "He isn't."

"Yep: he's bringing his new girlfriend, too."

"Oh." Tsubaki paused. "This…is going to be a long weekend." She smiled. "Good thing I brought a few changes of clothes this year."

"Maka!" a woman shouted from inside the house. "Get your butt in here—I need some help with my face paint!"

Maka smiled, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It's sad that the baby makes less of a mess than the adults."

Tsubaki shrugged. "Adulthood is overrated, anyway." She walked towards the porch steps, feeling a small kick in her womb.

o-o-o

WRITER'S NOTES: Epilogue

Thanks to the Anonymous poster for submitting what was an honest random question about how the Soul Eater characters would celebrate Thanksgiving—that I then turned into this long rambling. I struggled because someone already wrote a great Thanksgiving Soul Eater fan fic—ChaoticLivi's "Thankful for You"—so I wanted to do something that was not Soul x Maka-focused and instead gave some attention to Tsubaki, who gets so little attention in the manga as is. I really do not think I have a handle on her: she is stuck in the straight-person role against more crazy characters, so I'm trying to improve her portrayal. Then again, I am lacking in how I portray Patty as well: she is wacky, but that is not all there is to the character. My upcoming Kid and Patty story will help in that regard. And hey—I finally got to write Liz in a story!

I hope I didn't make people think that Tsubaki had some more dreadful plan in mind when she was ruminating how Black Star, Soul, and the rest would react to her plan. Seeing as this story ends with her pregnant—albeit in a time skip—I could see this story taking on a more mature tone.

I hint that Maka and Soul are going to get split up following that hint in Chapter 113, as she worries about him being far away from him. And I already know I would have the food fight end with Soul creaming Maka—which was too awful to have him do if he was going to be separating from her to take over Justin Law and Tsar Pushka's jobs in Europe and Russia. As you can see by this story's ending, that separation does not stick—as if it would ever happen, and as if I would have Soul do something that awful to Maka unless their partnership was going to continue. Please be patient with me—there are more stories to tell about the partnership of the Angelic Meister and the Last Death Scythe, and how they end up creating a family.

I avoided naming the spawn of Soul and Maka. There are so many other OC children with great names, and I wrote this so quickly I wasn't going to wait to ask someone whether I could borrow that name, or to think up one on my own. Angela Leon already took what would have been a great name for Maka's child—although, "Angel" could be a good gender-neutral one. If she named her child "Crona," I'm pretty sure I would have to crawl under my bed and cry for a while.

Despite appearances to the contrary in this story (including Black Star and Tsubaki's expecting child), I'm not sold on TsuStar—not yet. I got something in mind for that pairing. And for Angela Leon's role in this family. (Christmas fan fic coming soon. After the moon battle, Black Star totally spoils his daughter.)

Hey, I included Maka's mother in the story—and like Ohkubo, I never show her! Yay for hypocrisy!

Why Northampton? I have a soft spot for Massachusettes, and I'm a Ninja Turtles fan.

"Kid and the three others." Liz, Patty…So, who's the third girl? And who is Spirit's new girlfriend? Stay tuned for future fan fics—'cause I'm done with this one.

As a last-minute edit, I'm not happy with the aging I planned for Angela and Maka: in this time frame, it's been about seven years since Chapter 113, so Angela went from around 4 to around 11, and Maka from around 15 to 23. This likely will change in planning: 23 certainly is an age when Maka may have a child, but I initially thought she would be a few years older than that—the earlier draft was 29 years old. Seeing as the kids had to grow up faster thanks to war, but also wanting to avoid having her have a child as young as her parents did, I'm not sure that is the age I would imagine when she and Soul start a family.

Thank you for reading.


End file.
